


Aftermath

by SelinaBeckendorf



Category: The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I gave Basil a sister and she is Worried
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26108719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelinaBeckendorf/pseuds/SelinaBeckendorf
Summary: The last Briar of Baker Street saw on her brother, he, Dr. David Dawson, and Mr. Hiram Flaversham were on the tail of Professor Ratigan, who had kidnapped little Olivia Flaversham after attempting and failing to do away with the Queen and taking over all Mousedom.And her anxiety was in full force regarding Basil's safety.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. Aftermath: Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Fixating on a movie I haven't seen in years?? It's more likely than you think. I've got a lot of these and the timelines are not consistent, but I liked how they turned out, so you'll just have to deal with me and my bullshit.

Briar paced the floor of the room, subconsciously following the red carpet that went straight down the middle that led up to the stage from the blue silk curtains at the entrance of the room, muttering to herself. 

"I should have gone with him, what was I thinking?" The fear that had been pinpricking the back of her mind slammed into her frontal cortex at full force, making her almost overwhelmed with anxiety. 

"My dear, I'm sure they'll be fine. They'll be back soon." Her Majesty the Queen attempted to assure her. 

While Basil, Dawson, and Flaversham left to chase after Ratigan for kidnapping Olivia, Ratigan's henchmen were swiftly caught, arrested, and jailed. Without a battle to take her mind off things, Briar couldn't help but fear what Ratigan would do to her brother. 

"I appreciate the thought, Your Majesty, I really do, but Ratigan will kill Basil if he's given the chance. I never should have given him a chance, I should have gone with him, I can't keep him from getting killed by his most nefarious nemesis from the palace! Honestly, what was I thinking?" 

Briar sped up her pacing, out of her mind with worry. She could feel her heart racing and hear her breathing pick up with her paces, but she couldn't calm down, couldn't rest, not until she knew Basil was safe. Horrible, horrible images flashed before her eyes, of Basil bleeding out while they hurried back, of Basil falling to death, of Olivia returning in her father's arms sobbing while Dawson tearfully handed her Basil's cap. 

Before she could spiral into a full-on panic attack, she heard footsteps coming from behind the curtain at the front of the room. 

The group had returned, with Olivia in her father's arms, and the crowd around them cheered at their victory, but Briar only had eyes for her brother. He appeared worse for wear, his clothes practically torn to shreds, but he was alive and in one piece.  
Relief flooded her system as they made eye contact and Briar ran for her brother, colliding into him with a small grunt from him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Oh, thank goodness you're alive." She murmured into his shoulder. 

Basil hugged her back, but he did so with hesitation, and not as tightly as she expected he would. Warning bells began to ring in her brain, telling her something was wrong with him. 

Pulling away, she cupped his face in her hands. "Are you alright? What happened with Ratigan?"

Basil opened his mouth to respond, but instead of words, he sucked a breath through his teeth as he winced, a hand clasping his arm as his knees buckled.  
"Basil!" Briar cried out in alarm as she caught him, bringing him gently to the floor with her. Now that she got a good look at the tears in his clothes, she could see scratch marks, deep and angry, under his fur. "We need a doctor!"

"Basil, you said you were alright!" Dawson exclaimed, kneeling in front of her. 

Basil groaned, curling into his sister. "Briar..." He winced again, a weak whimper escaping him as he raised his hand to hold onto her arm. "It hurts..."  
The words triggered a memory she would have preferred to forget, and she held Basil close while the Queen called for medical attention for Basil. "It'll be alright, Basil. I'm right here. You'll be alright." She rest her cheek on the top of his head, instinctually reaching out for her brother as he was gently taken from her grasp by the doctors the Queen summoned. 

She failed to notice the tear that cascaded down her cheek and fell onto her skirt as she watched the doctors take her family away to the palace infirmary.


	2. Aftermath: Part 2

It had been hours since Basil was first given medial attention for his injuries, but it felt like an eternity. A horrible eternity of waiting for something about his condition, and whether he'd make it home or not. 

Dawson filled her in on what they witnessed during Basil's confrontation with Ratigan and presumably his last moments. Hmph. Good riddance. 

Most everyone was asleep. Olivia slept in her father's lap, her father leaning against his arm. Even Dawson fell into a slumber, leaning against the comfortable chairs the Queen set out for them while they waited for news about Basil. But not Briar. She stayed up, pacing the carpet of the floor again, fiddling with her undone hair as she waited. She hated waiting. She hated infirmaries. Too many unpleasant memories. 

Finally, the door of the room they settled Basil into opened, and Briar was there in an instant, startling the poor doctor. "Is he alright?" She asked, hoping and praying for a positive answer.  
"He should make a full recovery, but he'll need to rest for at least two weeks. Thankfully, his injuries weren't severe, although they narrowly avoided becoming so." The doctor replied. Unfortunately, hardly any of that information helped her nerves. 

"But he'll be alright?"

The doctor nodded, giving her a kind smile. "He'll be alright, Love. You can go see him if you wanted."

Briar nodded. "Please."

The doctor nodded in acknowledgment. "Just be careful of his bandages. He'll be sore for a bit."  
"I will. Thank you."

The doctor gave her another smile as he left the infirmary, likely to give his report to the Queen.

Without another thought, Briar pushed open the door left cracked, and peeked in. Basil lay in bed, dressed in spare nightclothes, barely awake, with only the light from the lamps on the bedside tables to light up the room. 

Briar made her way to his bedside, keeping her steps light and quick to avoid making any noise that could risk waking him. He's had a long day. 

A single chair rest against the wall closest to his bed, and being as cautious as she could, Briar brought the chair over to Basil's bedside, collapsing into it with a soft sigh. She's had a long day. 

Basil lay on his back, arms on either side of him, his breathing steady and even, as it should be. She could see white bandages poking out from the edge of his nightclothes and it made her wonder just how much of him was bandaged. And if she really wanted to know.  
She glanced at the hand closest to her and grasped it tight. For a moment, she feared it was too tight, as the second she took it, Basil groaned, but quickly went right back to sleep. 

Speaking of sleep, drowsiness had begun to settle into her system. It was late, and now she knew her brother was alright and that he was going to be alright. They were in arguably one of the safest places to be in all Mousedom, and Ratigan was gone. They were safe. 

Briar leaned forward, resting her free arm and head on the soft bed, her eyes becoming heavy with sleep. Giving in, Briar fell asleep at her brother's bedside, her anxiety finally dispelled.


	3. Aftermath: Part 3

The first thing Basil noticed when he came to consciousness was the pain. Everything hurt. His head hurt, his arms hurt, his chest hurt. His lower body seemed fine, but his upper body stung with pain, a dull throb at his temples. It was certainly unpleasant. 

The second thing Basil noticed were his surroundings. He laid on a soft bed, likely stuffed with cotton, with a rather lovely comforter made of silk, if he wasn't mistaken, covering him from the abdomen down. Once his vision had for the most part cleared, he could tell the walls were nicely decorated with both wallpaper and ornaments meant to neatly complement the walls.

He quickly learned it was best to take as slow and gentle movements as possible the hard way, as he merely moved his head to the side to see the other side of the room, and a sharp pain overwhelmed the nerves in his neck, the pain so sharp he almost couldn't breathe for a moment.

Despite his ability to determine the detail of this room shortly after coming to, which was certainly not his own, his mind was sluggish. The only thing he could think of that could compare was when he took a nap meant to be ten minutes and ended up sleeping five hours. That may have happened more than he would like to admit.

He tried to remember what happened the night before, what could have led to him being bedridden in a strange room that was no doubt some kind of infirmary. Because he's always had the best experiences in infirmaries.  
He remembered pieces, which annoyed him. He couldn't get the whole picture if he only had pieces. He remembered everything up to crashing into the clock, and that's where it starts to get a little fuzzy. He remembers saving Miss Olivia... Flangchester? Flammerhammer? No, Flaversham. He remembered saving little Olivia Flaversham and struggling to get her close enough to reach her father, and he remembered a struggle with Ratigan. The man had essentially gone mad with anger, ruining his clothes and striking him with several attacks that hurt like hell. He remembered falling, but using the propeller from Ratigan's broken dirigible to save himself and get him back up to the makeshift dirigible he, Dr. Dawson, and Mr. Flaversham made.  
He groaned, the sharp pains in his upper body showing no sign of calming. In his peripheral vision, he could make out the silhouette of a woman, her hair undone, with brown fur, wearing a blouse and a waistcoat.

Moving his eyes to actually look at her, he almost immediately recognized her. "Briar?" He asked, voice hoarse, either with sleep or with pain, likely both. 

His sister's eyes began to open and she perked up at seeing him. It was then he noticed she had been holding onto his hand in her sleep.

"Hey." Her voice was soft in both tone and volume, which he was grateful for, for loud noises would not help this headache. She raised her free hand to stroke his hair, and he closed his eyes, relishing the act. It almost made him feel like he was a child again. 

"How're you feeling?"  
Basil groaned, forcing his eyes open. "Bad. Everything hurts." 

Briar smiled sympathetically. "Yeah, the doctor said you'd be sore for a bit, so it's best to just rest now. Do you want me to stay?"

Basil couldn't find it in him to say anything, utterly exhausted. Today was off to a brilliant start. He merely nodded at her question, being very careful to keep his movements to a minimum. 

Briar's smiled warmed a bit. "Alright." She leaned forward to leave a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Get some rest, Basil. You deserve it."

Basil managed a small smile. "Can you sing... Can you sing our lullaby?" He asked, yawning in the middle of his request. 

Briar retook her seat by his bedside, holding her other hand around his. "If it'll help you sleep, I don't see why not."

She then began to sing their lullaby, a song Auntie used to sing to them every night, and apparently, a song their mother had written herself. 

Basil always liked his sister's singing. She sounded lovely, but he knew she was insecure about it. 

As Briar sang, drowsiness joined the exhaustion and pain coursing through him. Sleep sounded nice right now. 

Within the next minute, he slipped into the familiar bliss of unconsciousness.


End file.
